


let me be your shelter, let me be your light

by Ciarre



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro receives hugs and kisses and hand holding, Akechi wears glasses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, persona 5 royal spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciarre/pseuds/Ciarre
Summary: Against all odds, Akechi wakes up in the alleys of Kichijoji the day before Akira is slated to leave Tokyo.Maybe it was the universe's way of telling him he really did deserve a second chance. Or maybe someone missed him so much he was brought back from the brink of death by sheer force of will. After all, what each person sees and feels are what shape reality.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	1. bring him home

**Author's Note:**

> This is set immediately after the P5R ending - heavy spoilers for P5R! There will also be some metaverse shenanigans!

Goro Akechi’s eyes fluttered open, his hands twitching, clenching and unclenching as if to break out of a bout of sleep paralysis. He couldn’t say that the comparison was inaccurate. For a moment, he saw himself on the cold tile of the engine room, his mirror image crawling towards him, eyes reflecting the depths of his - their - own depravity. He blinked, and with it, the image faded into nothingness.

He’s still here.  _ He’s still here.  _ His mental facilities now returning, he could feel the hard concrete underneath his bruised back, the bright sky filtered through the glass ceiling dimly illuminating his worn face. It felt warmer than he had last remembered it to be.

He took in one sobering breath and dragged himself up. This was Kichijoji. The alleyway outside the jazz club. Even with his blurry vision, he could recognize this atmosphere in an instant.  _ Blurry. _ That’s right, he remembered now. Somewhere between the helicopter ride into reality and his fall onto concrete, his contacts had disappeared.

Wait.  _ Fall… onto concrete? How the hell did I fall in Kichijoji, I don’t think the ceiling is broken...? _

Akechi limped as he tried to navigate his way around the promenade, eyes squinting to make out the shape of familiar buildings and signs. He brought his scarf up to conceal his face and grabbed his side to suppress the jolts of pain he felt from each step. 

His eyes soon became too tired to focus properly, and relied on muscle memory to take him back home. In hindsight (ha), it wasn’t the brightest of decisions, considering the remnants of Shido’s men could have taken him down at any point in his vulnerable state. 

He shed every layer of clothing but his shirt, then grabbed his glasses off the countertop and hastily set them upon his face. Finally. What  _ day _ was it, even? He unlocked his phone with a press of his thumb. March 19th. He blinked, and then winded his hands behind his neck to quickly fashion his hair into a messy ponytail as if his hair prevented him from thinking straight. He grumbled at that thought.  _ As if he ever thought straight to begin with. _

Though admittedly not a proper detective, his mind began putting the gears in motion. They defeated Maruki on February 3rd. What happened to him for a whole month and a half? More importantly, Akira had told him he was leaving Tokyo on March 20th. So… Tomorrow. 

Fuck. 

He wrestled with his own mind, as if the aspects of Robin Hood and Loki were fighting amongst themselves.  _ Would he even want to see me again? _ Of course he would, idiot, he almost took the deal to keep you alive.  _ Yeah, but he would be better off not seeing me again. _ You really think that, dumbass? The way he pined over you despite all the shit you did?  _ All that shit I did is exactly the reason I don’t deserve to see him again. _

Akechi slapped himself with both hands, his ponytail lightly swinging behind him like a clock pendulum, counting down the minutes to when he could mentally say goodbye to his number one hope and regret.

He resigned himself to at least say a farewell, or see him off one last time. 

He hopped in the shower. Despite everything, the brain cell that told him to look presentable to his crush overpowered his want to throw everything aside and rest for the near future.

\---

The next day, Akechi blearily awoke to an infernal ringing. Furiously tapping at the phone screen, he unchecked the alarms he’d set from 8 AM to 9 AM at 5 minute intervals.  _ Despite _ the myriad alarms, the phone clock read  _ 9:17 _ . Fuck.  _ Fuck. _ He wasn’t too sure, but judging by Akira’s habits and personality, he would get up early enough to eat breakfast before Leblanc opened, but leave late enough to say goodbye to the rest of his Phantom Thief friends. Plus, the train ride was long, so he would want to get on earlier to ensure he still had the rest of the day to get settled back at home. So, he deduced - no, he was certain - that Akira would  _ probably _ take the 9:30 train. 

“Fuck. Shit,” Akechi swore under his breath. He left his hair in the messy ponytail, haphazardly threw his glasses on his face, and pulled on the outfit he had strewn over his chair - which so happened to be his typical detective prince outfit.  _ Fuck. _

He has never been more thankful to live so close to the station. He ran, sprinted, as the clothes that fit slightly looser than usual hugged his slender frame against the wind. Minutes later, at the station, he bumped shoulders with a grey haired man that gave off such a familiar energy, he couldn’t help but turn in surprise. 

“Sorry about that, I’m in a bit of a rush!” the grey haired man said, scratching the back of his head, and briskly walked towards the platform. Akechi shook his head, about to respond, until he saw the sign on the platform flash DESTINATION: … INABA STATION, DEPARTING IN 1 MINUTE. 

Oh. That’s Akira’s hometown, isn’t it? He walked along the length of the train, hoping he’d see a head of black fluffy curls peering through one of the many windows.

The train started moving. Akechi sighed and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Maybe he was wrong; maybe he’d take a different train. Why did he trust his stupid  _ hitman’s _ intuition anyway? 

He watched with tired eyes as the train left the station and disappeared into the horizon. Then, he found his attention being whipped back and forth from two very different, but equally loud sounds.

First, his phone ringer, which he had forgotten to turn down from max volume from the morning. Next, a very clear, feminine voice shouting, “Akechi-san?!”

“...Yoshizawa-san…?” he asked, hesitantly looking down at his phone and nearly jumping out of his clothes when he saw the caller ID.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Akechi-san! Please answer your phone first!” Sumire said, bowing slightly. 

Akechi brought the phone to his ear and answered. There was a split second of silence. Then, “Akechi? You’re alive?” 

“It would seem so.” 

“Don’t you dare leave. I’m getting off at the next stop and going back there. 10 minutes there and 10 minutes to return.”

“Wh- No! Don’t you  _ dare  _ get off that train-” The line cut off. His eyes met Sumire’s, who tilted her head at him in confusion. There was a message notification on Sumire’s phone, which she checked, and her confusion cleared up immediately. 

“Akechi-san, I’m afraid I can’t let you leave!” she said, crowding him with a saccharine smile. “I apologize in advance! Akira-senpai told me to do this!” She reached up and snatched the glasses off his face and tucked it into her tracksuit. 

Momentarily stunned, Akechi stared at her blurry form. “Yoshizawa-san, what the hell?”

“I’m afraid I must hold these hostage until Akira-senpai returns!” She bowed deeply this time. 

A month and a half of what he presumed was suspended animation could not possibly have been good for his muscles, considering the loose fit of his uniform and the lack of strength he felt while running. He could try to wrestle his glasses back, but he guessed that the gymnast could easily overpower him in this state.  _ Ugh. _

“Well, Yoshizawa-san, it appears my hands are tied. Shall we head to a cafe while we wait for that idiot’s triumphant return?” He enunciated each syllable with as much disdain he could muster.

Sumire, however, seemed unperturbed. “Yes, let’s! We have much to discuss!” She clapped her hands together and smiled brightly.

\---

Akechi glanced at his phone, which sported a brief message on the lockscreen from Akira stating  _ ETA: 10 minutes now _ . He squinted at the text, and begrudgingly replied with  _ Meet us at that cafe in Odaiba. You know the one. _

“I… might not know you very well, but I’m very glad you’re still here with us, Akechi-san. What you did… despite knowing you might disappear? You have my utmost respect!” Sumire inclined her head towards Akechi.

“Please. I don’t deserve your respect,” Akechi stated flatly. “But… Thank you for fighting against Maruki, despite all the pain it must have caused you.” 

“No, no, it was something that had to be done! I can’t run from the pain anymore. I have to live as myself, for myself. I think Akira-senpai said something similar about you.” She took a sip of her tea and glanced at Akechi’s mug with slight concern.

He stared at her, however blurry her profile might have been, and simultaneously took a gulp of the monstrosity that contained five shots of espresso with little else. 

“Yes, that’s about correct. I… wanted to be free. To live as a puppet on a string for the joy of another, for the rest of my days, is quite possibly my worst nightmare come to fruition,” Akechi explained. He left out the part where he thought he didn’t deserve to live because of the actions he undertook.  _ Maybe _ that was a little too heavy for a nice early morning chat.

Sumire nodded along to his words. Then, after checking her phone, she slid his glasses across the table back to him. “He should be here any moment now. Akira-senpai was so devastated by your… disappearance, so I’m glad you two can finally reunite! I have to get to practice, so I’ll let you two have your moment. Goodbye, and thank you, Akechi-san!” She bowed and stood up from the table. 

As he watched her leave, glasses now on, an achingly familiar figure burst through the front door. 

“Akechi! You’re here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "okay guys im leaving"  
> akechi: exists  
> "wait fuck nevermind"


	2. wishing you were somehow here again

“Akechi! You’re here!”

Akira ran up to the table Akechi was sitting at, and without any reserve whatsoever, full on bear hugged him from behind. Their glasses clacked against each other, dislodging them both as Akira smashed his cheek against Akechi’s. They both ignored a high pitched yelp that seemed to come from Akira’s bag.

He rested his chin against Akechi’s shoulder and brought up his hands to adjust both of their glasses. “Are you real? Am I dreaming again?” He took a moment to steal a sip of Akechi’s ‘coffee’ and then almost spit it back out.

Akechi smirked, trying to will the blooming blush off his face. He was also trying, and failing, to convince himself that his rapid heartbeat was due to the copious amounts of caffeine now circulating through his system and not his close proximity to the man he was pining after for a whole half year. “Of course I’m real. Now give me back my coffee.”

Akira shoved the mug far from himself and took a seat next to Akechi. “Bleh. You call that coffee? I thought you were a coffee snob. Anyway, I missed you so much.”

“...You did?” Akechi immediately regretted asking.  _ Goro, you fucking dumbass, of course he did. He’s probably why you’re still here. _

Akira nodded, and shoved his left hand into his pocket. The other drifted to Akechi’s left, close but not quite touching. “I came to Kichijoji yesterday, you know. I asked the guy at Penguin Sniper about you, but he didn’t know where you were. No one knew.” He took the glove out of his pocket and held it against his chest. “I never stopped thinking of you, but yesterday, it just hit me. That… That I was going to leave Tokyo without ever having said goodbye to you. I just wanted to see you again.”

Akechi looked away, trying to process what Akira just told him. “After we beat Maruki, I woke up in Kichijoji. Yesterday. I’m not sure what happened in the past month and a half, I’m afraid.”

“Are you saying you just appeared all of a sudden? Just yesterday?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I _ just  _ said.”

Morgana took this moment to pop his head out of the bag and headbutt the side of Akechi’s face, skewing his glasses again.

Akechi sighed and fixed his glasses. “This has  _ got _ to stop being a trend.” He reached for Morgana’s head menacingly.

“Wait, no, I need to say something important! I swear!” Morgana yelped.

“Well? Out with it, then.”

“Well, I already gave my grand speech to this guy, so now I get to bless your ears too! I thought I was gone for good after we defeated the god of control, but I managed to come back somehow. I think that’s because everyone believed in my existence. As I said to Akira, the whole world is a product of cognition! You being here means that someone believed in you enough to keep you around.” 

Akechi shrugged. “I figured as much.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?!” Morgana swiped at him playfully, but this time Akechi managed to dodge in time.

“I remember everything we went through in January. But at the same time, the last thing I remember is lying on the cold floor of the engine room. That must mean… For  _ three  _ months, I’ve been stuck in the Metaverse?” But… Didn’t the Metaverse disappear after defeating Maruki? Then again, he supposed the collective desire of humanity was rather difficult to truly suppress.

“...I’m so sorry, Akechi. I couldn’t save you then. All I could do was just believe in you.”

“I literally tried to kill you.”

“You were manipulated.”

“I _ let _ myself be manipulated.”

Akira covered Akechi’s left hand with his right and laced their fingers together. “Shhh, none of that.”

“Fine, I’ll stop.” He didn’t bother to move his hand, though. “So… Here I am. Now are you going to go back home or what?”

“Well, I was only going back to Inaba because that’s what I thought I had to do. Besides, everyone else was going their own ways and you were gone, so it didn’t really make a difference either way. But… Now that you’re here…” Akira gave him a devilish grin.

“Oh no. Stop it. I can physically hear what you’re about to say, and I’m going to preemptively say that’s an awful decision.”

“...I think I could be persuaded to stay in the lovely, dusty attic loft for another year,” he continued.

Akechi groaned. “Can you think with your head for once?”

Akira pointed downward. “I am.”

“The _ other _ one.” Akechi dislodged his left hand from Akira’s grip and covered his face with his hands to hide the blush creeping down his face and neck. It was then he realized that he wasn’t wearing gloves for once. His face felt very warm against his bare hands. Akira’s hands  _ had  _ felt very warm. Oh. 

“I’m with Akechi on this one,” Morgana added. “But, as always, I can be bribed with a large plate of fatty tuna.”

Akira ignored Morgana. “Hm… I did have some of Shido’s men chase me down just today. How are you holding up? Nothing happened between your sleeping beauty awakening and now?”

Akechi pinched the bridge of his nose. This idiot’s ability to switch topics on the fly like it were his personas was truly incredible. “About that… It’s just not safe for me to stay at my current place. If you were to make the bad decision to stay… Would I be able to… ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘˀ” His voice became very quiet as he asked the last part, and he prayed Akira wouldn’t notice what he said the instant it came out of his mouth.  _ Damn it, Goro, how about  _ you _ start thinking with your head? _

Unfortunately, Akira’s ears were keenly attuned to such sounds thanks to his trysts in the Metaverse. His mouth split into a wide grin. “Oh absolutely! I thought you’d never ask. Are you done with that coffee?” 

Akechi pathetically stared down at the half empty concoction and grunted.

“Good. Now let’s get out of here.”

“Wow, talk about 0 to 100!” Morgana said, eyes wide.

“Wait, what-” Akechi’s protests quickly died in his throat.

Akira dragged Akechi out of the seat by the hand and started marching them towards the door. “Let’s go grab your things. Since Shido’s goon squad’s distracted right now and probably thinking I’m on the way to the middle of nowhere, now’s the perfect chance to sneak in.”

“You can’t make these kinds of life changing decisions on the fly-”

“I can, and I will! Let’s go!”

\---

Begrudgingly,  _ very _ begrudgingly, Akechi led them to his apartment. “Shut up in advance,” he mumbled as he unlocked and opened the door.

The place was a disaster, the mess more visible in broad daylight than it was in the picturesque evening sun. In his defense, he hadn’t been in here for three months.

“Wow.”

“I said shut up.” Akechi took a moment to corral Akira into the kitchen, where the mess was the least pronounced.  _ At least _ his December self had the sense to clean up after himself in the ways that mattered. “Also, I’ll be right back. I’m going to change out of this nightmare of an outfit.”

“But I think it looks cute,” Akira said, watching Akechi disappear into the bathroom. 

When Akechi emerged, he was sporting a black turtleneck, his hair down and grazing his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes carefully concealed. However, the glasses Akira had thought would be long gone still framed his red eyes.

“I’m glad you kept the glasses. They’re hot, no bias,” Akira stated, looking Akechi up and down. 

“I… I ran out of contacts. I didn’t order any past December because I didn’t think I would live to see the day.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” There was a tense silence as Akechi began shoving his belongings into a nondescript duffle bag. 

Akira decided to occupy himself by looking through the kitchen. On the surface, the kitchen looked rather well maintained.  _ Probably because Goro can’t cook, hehehe, _ he thought to himself. Belatedly, he also thought,  _ oh, did I just call him Goro in my  _ head _ head? _

Several other thoughts ran through his head.  _ Wow, wouldn’t they like, repossess apartments and throw the tenant’s shit out at some point? _ He checked the faucet. The water ran cold and clear. Okay, there had to have been some behind the scenes fuckery going on to keep this place like it is, utilities and all. He decided to stop thinking about it and cracked open the refrigerator. 

He wasn't sure  _ what _ he was thinking, considering it had been a solid three months since it had been last checked.

“Did a school decide to host their science fair in  _ the  _ Goro Akechi’s refrigerator?” Akria said, intentionally dramatizing each syllable. He pinched his nose and stared down at the mush of what used to be a plate of vegetables sitting on the middle compartment. 

Akechi hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder and walked over to the kitchen. He nudged Akira out of the way and slammed the fridge door shut. “ _ Why _ would you open that? Are you  _ stupid _ ?”

“You know, I can’t even argue with that. I just wasn’t thinking. With my head.” 

Akechi sighed. “I’m done packing. Let’s go home.”

Akira fished something out of his jacket pocket. “So, do you think a Goho-M would work here, or what-” 

  
He didn’t get to finish as Akechi snatched it out of his hands and briskly walked ahead of him.  _ So, Akechi thought of Leblanc as home, huh?  _ Akira stashed that thought away for a rainy day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do not make life changing decisions on the fly


	3. your sentences left me defenseless

Sojiro stared, dead eyed, at the two men sitting at the counter. He fixed his glare on Akira in particular.

“I just got rid of you, and now you’re back?” he said, with a teasing hint to his words.

Akira scratched the back of his head. “So… I know I just left this morning. But! Hear me out.”

“Alright. Listening.”

“You know how we thought Akechi was dead for the past few months? Turns out he’s not. And he needs a place to stay.”

“I understand that. But why are _you_ back?”

“Because I’d like to spend more time with the friend I thought was dead and didn’t have a chance to mourn properly.”

“The new semester starts in April, you know. Are you asking to stay here an extra month or another year?”

“That… depends on your answer,” Akira said, his grin both sheepish and shit eating. Akechi primly folded his hands on the counter and let his gaze drift towards the various stocks of coffee beans in the background.

Sojiro sighed. “You’re calling your parents and coming up with an excuse to stay.” Although he sounded exasperated, Akira knew that he wouldn’t say no to him, especially after what they went through all year. 

Akechi inclined his head towards Sojiro and modulated his voice to the Detective Prince persona he had long since discarded. He supposed it was fitting, considering he was forced to wear the cursed outfit earlier by virtue of his inability to wake up on time. “Thank you very much for your hospitality. I’ll do my best to keep him out of trouble.” 

_Wow,_ Akira thought. _Pot, meet kettle_. “I should be saying that to you!”

“It’s the least I could do. Just…” Sojiro trailed off, meeting Akechi’s gaze. “Eh, nevermind. We can talk more after you get some food and rest.” He set a plate of curry in front of him. “Now, you, Akira, make his coffee. I’m going to go for a smoke.”

“Thank you, again,” Akechi said, watching Sojiro leave the cafe. He turned back to Akira, and his voice returned to the darker timbre Akira had previously described as a ‘tenor lumberjack.’ Akechi continued to reject that sentiment; even when he let his true voice shine through, it was _still_ elegant. Unless he went feral, that is. “Now, I believe you owe me a coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Akira said, as he made his way behind the counter.

Akechi focused on Akira’s hands as they maneuvered around the various contraptions he could never be bothered to learn. They were calloused, with small scars scattered on his fingers from the occasional errant knife while chopping ingredients. For some reason, he found them inexplicably drawn to them. He looked down at his gloved hands and used his right hand to softly run his thumb across the palm of his left, imagining the hand was Akira’s and not his own. Damn it all. Not only was this asshole living rent free at Leblanc, he was also living rent free in Akechi’s mind. 

Akira pushed the finished cup towards him, letting their fingers touch for a brief moment as Akechi reached for it. 

He took a sip of the coffee. And then, he absolutely demolished the plate of curry. As he handed the plate back to Akira, their hands brushed together once more.

“Fuck you and your stupidly attractive hands.” Apparently, his filter likes to fuck off somewhere along with his reputation whenever they make physical contact. Maybe Loki was actually his impulse control.

Akira blinked. Then, waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Well now, you know what else these hands can do?”

“Forget I said that. I don’t want to know.”

“I’m really good at…” Akira reached over to Akechi’s hand from the counter. “...unprotected…” He held down Akechi’s left hand with his right and pulled his glove off. “...hand holding.” Lacing their fingers together, he brought their connected hands to his lips.

“Goro, my prince,” Akira said, and then smirked. He figured if they were holding hands, they may as well be on a first name basis already.

Goro felt his face heat up. Whether it was from embarrassment or rage, he couldn’t quite discern. He untangled their fingers and snatched his glove back, futilely trying to shove his hand back in. Unfortunately, the glove refused to cooperate, leaving each finger constricted in a sleeve not quite meant for them. 

He decided to fling the glove at Akira’s head instead.

“Are you challenging me to another duel?” Although Akira tried to sound scandalized, he couldn’t stop the amusement from creeping into his voice.

“That wasn’t my intent this time, but sure, I’ll put another duel on the tab.”

“Hey, now I have a set of matching gloves!” He deftly put both of his hands in the gloves. Armed with new knowledge that Goro liked his hands, he used his teeth to pull them on completely, intending to short circuit his mind even more; he wanted to shift Goro’s thoughts away from the things that hurt him. “So, how do I look? Not the red they usually are, unfortunately.”

Honestly, Goro thought biting on the gloves was pretty hot. But it was the sliver of exposed wrist between his gloves and the sleeves that really drove him wild. He felt like a Victorian gentleman losing his shit at the slightest glance of a noble lady’s ankle. Briefly, he wondered if Akira ever felt the same about the way his hands were always covered. Hm.

“I prefer you without them on,” was what came out of his mouth instead. 

Akira shrugged. “Figured. I like you with your gloves on though. But off is nice too. Your hands are so smooth.” He took Goro’s bare hand and nuzzled it with his cheek. 

Goro reached further and grabbed a fistfull of soft curls, pulling Akira by the hair over the counter closer to him. 

It was then that Sojiro chose to walk back in, a small bag of groceries in hand. Goro frantically let go of Akira’s hair, coughing subtly into his gloved hand. 

“Well, now that this guy’s got his stuff secured upstairs, we’re, um. About to head out,” Akira said. 

“Alright, then. See you both later.” Sojiro waved as he went into the kitchen.

Akira definitely didn’t miss the knowing glance Sojiro threw his way. Oops. “Tokyo is our oyster. What should we do?” he said, hand on the door handle. 

“I kind of wanted to go back to sleep after seeing you at the train station.”

“Was two cups of coffee not enough for you? We can go to Inokashira Park, then. You can take a nap on my lap.”

“No.”

“Then you can sleep on my shoulder.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then let’s go to the movies. The new Featherman came out while you were gone, you know.”

“Oh, at the theater around the corner? Sure.” Goro checked his watch out of habit. It was just barely afternoon.

“Okay! It’s settled then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h*lding h*nds? lewd
> 
> I switched from Akechi to Goro halfway through once Akira starts calling him Goro, I just wanted to keep it consistent with both of their first names!


End file.
